The Win
by Tibbins
Summary: Continuation of 13x05. Sam catches Cas up on what's really been going on the past few weeks. Heavily implied Destiel. Can be read as a companion piece to 'Faithless' and 'Empty Bottles' though it works just as well as a stand alone. Some dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys,**

 **So this is a continuation of 13x05 (HOW PERFECT WAS THAT EPISODE? IT WAS EVERYTHING I NEEDED IT TO BE AND JUST UGH!) It gave me so many feels.**

 **This one could relate to 'Faithless' and 'Empty Bottles' although there are no explicit references, just some similar themes, so if you wanna read them first, go for it.**

 **Warning for mentions of Dean's suicide attempt (because let's face it, that's exactly what it was).**

 **Enjoy ^_^**

"Hello, Dean."

Dean just stared at the angel. He hadn't believed, not really. Not even when he'd heard that deep, familiar voice on the phone telling him a location, that he would explain everything. He'd expected a shifter maybe, or a demon, a trap of some kind. But instead, Cas turned towards him in a new coat and met his eyes.

It was like taking a thousand volts to the chest, Dean could have sworn his heart stopped beating again, because it was _Cas_ and Cas was _here_ and looking at him with those eyes that told him there was a story to be told. But later, later. For now, Dean strode towards Cas with a whoop and flung his arms around the angel, laughing and trying not to cry at the same time.

They stood there for a few moments too long, held on to each other a fraction too tightly. Dean just breathed in the smell of stardust, of thunderstorms and electricity, that scent that was both so familiar and so new... and then it was over, and Sam too was calling Cas' name, asking him questions and hugging him and slapping his brother on the shoulder, saying;

"I'd say this counts as a win, wouldn't you?"

They piled back into the impala, Dean at the wheel, turning off his music so they could grill Cas on where he'd been and catch him up on what had happened since he'd died. Cas was very excited to meet Jack and kept staring out of the window with a small smile on his face, seeming to revel in being back on Earth after his time in the Empty. Dean watched him in the rearview mirror. He didn't say much, driving back. Letting Sam do most of the talking, he kept expecting Cas to disappear again, but each time he looked in the mirror or heard the soft rumble of his voice, there he was.

Cas was back, and there was a tennis ball sized lump in his chest that glowed like a nova at the thought.

 _Xxx_

Sam kept glancing at Dean out of the corner of his eyes. His brother's stoicism was almost complete, but there was a slight sink to his features that softened all the hard-earned creases, and there was something different in his eyes than the black hole of pain that had he had been lugging around with him for the past few weeks, something warmer. Sam smiled at the sight and did his best to keep Cas talking. Glad himself for the opportunity to talk to his friend again. Cas was calm and relaxed, happy to talk, happy to gaze out of the window. He asked a few questions about Jack and Sam glanced at Dean before answering, thinking that now wouldn't be the best time to mention how opposed to Jack Dean had been. Dean chimed in with the odd comment, mostly sarcastic remarks and the occasional genuine joke. It was nice, but there was a tension in the car that threatened to crush the fragile dome of relief and happiness with the weight of all the things left unsaid. Cas told them about the creature in the Empty, how it had looked like him and searched through his memories, though there was a falter in the way he said it that lead Sam to believe that wasn't the whole story. Dean outright laughed when Cas explained how he had ended up being sent back.

"So, you just downright _irritated_ yourself back to life, huh? That's awesome, Cas. Sounds like me and Sammy have been a bad influence on you."

"Or a good one, depending on how you look at it."

Dean laughed again, though this one sounded less genuine. Sam let out his own chuckle, it was nice to laugh again, the three of them, in the impala, driving home. But that sticky tension was still there, oppressive.

"We've really missed you, Cas." Sam said lightly. "It's not been, uh, easy, without you around." He glanced at his brother then, whose hands gripped slightly tighter on the wheel, but said nothing.

"I'm sorry I caused you grief," the angel said, seeing as happy to talk about the subject as Sam, likely he too had noticed the tension and wanted to dispel it as quickly as possible.

"Well, you _died_ , Cas, of course we grieved," Sam said, Dean's knuckles were white on the wheel now, "we were, uh, pretty messed up, actually."

"You were?"

"Well, we'd just lost our mom and our best friend within ten minutes of each other so it wasn't exactly a great day," Dean said, "but we went through the process, we hugged it out, went to therapy and we got back to business, right, Sam?"

"You went to therapy?" Cas sounded more confused than ever, and when Sam turned in his seat to talk to him there was a small amount of hurt on his face at Dean's brusque response.

"Well, it was for a case," Sam explained, "we had to go undercover as patients. You see, there was this shifter…" he told the story, leaving out his and Dean's explosion in the therapy session, saying only that he had found talking about Mary hard and had had to leave the room. He also tactfully glossed over how resentful Dean had been towards Jack during the Hunt, seeing as things had actually been improving a little in that area, he didn't see the point in mentioning it. When he was done Castiel beamed from the backseat.

"It sounds like Jack has been fitting in well."

"Yeah, he's a regular Peter Parker," said Dean, "got the floppy hair and everything."

Cas' smile faded a little, Sam glared at his brother who seemed to realise that his tone had been anything but complementary and shifted his weight uncomfortably in his seat.

"Either way, it's great to have you back," Sam said quickly, pointedly. "Maybe things can start… you know, getting back to normal and we can work on getting Mom back. I really think you could help Jack figure out how to control his powers, I mean, you have experience in this stuff, right?"

"No more than you, really," Cas said thoughtfully, "I mean, I can try. He did have a very strong presence when he helped me defeat Daegon."

Dean snorted at that but either Cas didn't hear, or he ignored it.

"Great," Sam said, enthusiastically, "Yeah, that might really help. If you got a read on his powers and what they're like then you might be better equipped to help him figure them out."

Castiel nodded and smiled. "It sounds like a plan. What do you think, Dean?"

"Sure, whatever."

The angel frowned, then he leaned forward in his seat and pressed a hand to Dean's shoulder. Dean flinched slightly at the surprise contact. But after a moment, Sam watched him relax again, something flickered in his eyes, though it was gone too quickly for Sam to identify it.

"Are you alright?" Cas asked the Hunter.

"I'm good, Cas, really."

"Dean,"

Sam hid a smile at the 'don't bullshit me' tone. Dean huffed out a sigh and for a second, Sam thought he might not reply. Then he nodded slightly, seemingly to himself, and closed his eyes for a second longer than he should have considering he was driving.

"I'm better." He said. And there was such sincerity in his voice that Sam actually believed it. A little of the tension dissipated and Sam's mouth twitched in relief.

After a few long minutes of silence, Dean put his music back on. Sam rolled his eyes at the volume and Cas sat back, smiling, his eyes crinkling with amusement. Dean began to sing along, quietly at first, then louder, finally letting rip with the chorus and belting out the lyrics, drumming his hands on the wheel. Sam glanced over at his brother, then back at Cas who was nodding along to the beat of the song, watching Dean with fondness, as though he was experiencing something truly unique and beautiful by listening to him sing. Sam joined the song on the next chorus, singing wildly and out of tune, Dean grinned over at him, a real grin. The song ended in a high note, which they both attempted though Sam knew he could never hit it without his voice cracking like a walnut and if Dean had truly wanted to do the song justice then he would have changed key. They both warbled, holding the ridiculous note for as long as they could and then burst out laughing as the last few bars faded. Cas was chuckling quietly on the backseat, he too had started humming along to the tune in the last verse, though Sam had never actually heard Cas sing. The horrible tension was gone for now and they spent the rest of the trip home laughing and reminiscing and talking about nothing at all, and although Sam noticed Dean going quiet again, he no longer looked as haunted.

This was exactly what Dean needed, Sam decided as the three of them pulled up in front of the bunker and prepared to introduce Jack to the angel who had looked out for him before he was even born. Cas was so excited he was almost vibrating, Dean laughing and pulling the angel out of the car by his arm, flinging his own arm around Cas' shoulders, calling for Jack in a voice that could only be described as cheerful.

Cas was the win Dean had been hoping for.

 _Xxx_

A couple of weeks later and things had settled into a new routine of sorts. Cas was spending most of his time with Jack, trying to implement a new regime for him to safely test out and learn to control his powers. Cas was very good with the kid; Sam had sat in on a couple of their sessions and Castiel was always patient, explaining what he wanted Jack to try and why it was important. He and Jack had formed a bond instantly, Jack latching onto the angel and following him around like a puppy. Sam would often find them together in the library, or on the sofa, talking quietly; either Jack bombarding Cas with questions about his mother, or Cas offering advice on some of the finer points of living with humans.

Dean, for his part, didn't seem to be drinking quite as much, and he actually spent a lot of time in the kitchen, whipping up breakfast, lunch and dinner for all of them and insisting that Cas sit with them at the table when they ate together, despite the angel not actually needing food. He even sometimes slipped Jack extra helpings, grumbling that the kid was too skinny and 'if he wasn't careful, he'd grow into a beanpole like Sam.'

But the gloom of previous weeks had slowly settled back around his brother, and it was only really mealtimes that they talked. When he wasn't in the kitchen, Dean was in his room, the only sound coming from it, the occasional clink of a bottle.

Sam himself had been researching in the library. Not trawling the internet for cases, he figured a short break from Hunting while they all readjusted to having Cas back would do them all good, but for mentions of other worlds, particularly anything like the one Mary was still trapped in. He hadn't learned very much so far, but he figured even the smallest of references might be useful in the long run. Sam sighed and pushed his laptop away, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He couldn't concentrate tonight. He was worried about Dean. He had been so certain that getting Cas back would be just the thing to get him out of his funk, after all it had been losing Cas in the first place that had put him on that road. But while Dean's eyes lit up every time the angel walked into the room, they grew darker again in seconds. He seemed conflicted, though Sam wasn't sure why, and seemed to be pulling away from all of them.

Cas came in then,

"You're up late," he said mildly, wandering over to one of the shelves and browsing before pulling out a couple of books.

"Am I?" Sam checked the clock on his laptop screen, it was nearly three am. "Wow, I didn't even realise. Some of the theories on parallel universes are really interesting, I guess I just got sucked in. What are you doing up?"

Cas shot him a sardonic look, then held up the books.

"I have to find something to occupy myself while you all sleep. Or while you all _usually_ sleep at least."

"Right, of course."

Cas put the books down on the table opposite Sam and sat, opening one. Sam closed his laptop and almost got up to leave but instead he just sat there in the companionable silence, mulling over his worries over the past few weeks.

"What's bothering you?" Cas asked after a couple of minutes, not looking up from his book.

Sam huffed and leaned back, combing a hand through his hair. "Dean, I guess," he said.

"That's not so unusual," Cas said with a small smile, marking his page and closing the book, cocking his head at the younger Winchester, "I daresay if I asked Dean the same question, he'd say 'you'."

"Nah, he'd say 'nothing Cas, I'm good, pass me a beer.'" Sam said in his best Dean impression, growly and sarcastic.

Cas chuckled.

"That's true. I have been meaning to talk to him. But I've been so busy with Jack, and I guess I too 'just got sucked in'."

"Jack's a great kid,"

Castiel's smile was warm. "He is, but he needs a lot of guidance and that means time. Time I'm willing to give him but…" he trailed off, a small frown creasing his brow.

"But it sometimes gets in the way," Sam nodded, "I get it. I'm sure Dean does too, it's just an adjustment we have to make, that's all."

Cas nodded slowly, "Dean doesn't adjust very well."

Sam huffed out a laugh.

"Yeah, you could say that. You know, Dean and Jack… Dean hasn't taken to him too well,"

Cas' frown deepened, "he hasn't? I mean, I know Jack's a little intimidated by him but-"

"No, I mean, Dean could be downright cruel. When we first brought him back to the bunker he told Jack he'd kill him. When we took him along on that Hunt a few weeks back, he was acting like… like Dad. You know, barking orders, expecting them to be followed, not actually talking to him. I called him out on it, but he didn't back off. It was, well it wasn't like him. You know how protective he gets, over pretty much everyone." Sam didn't have the words for how disturbed he'd been. Dean might have tried desperately to be John once, but that was years ago and he had _never_ pushed that crap onto Sam, in fact, when it came down to it, Dean had even pushed himself between his father and his brother a lot of the time, always siding with Sam. Dean had come to hold their father in a much lower regard than he had once done and Sam had thought that comparing the two would have been enough to snap Dean out of it. So when he hadn't, Sam had just hoped it wouldn't last long, and stuck up for Jack when he could.

Cas too looked disturbed at the words and not a little angry.

"John…" he said, delicately, "John was not a kind father."

Sam shrugged. John had had his moments, he'd always tried his best and he had loved them, despite everything else. But he had been a hard man to be raised by. 'Kind' was not the word Sam would have used.

"Why would Dean react like that?" Castiel said suddenly, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table, "he knows how important Jack is, he was supposed to look after him in my absence."

Sam raised his arms to the air and dropped them again.

"He blamed him. For your death, for Mom being lost. He told me as much. Well… yelled it at me." Sam shook his head. "But since Jack saved us from that shifter he's been better to him. And now that you're back," he gestured "You've seen how he is. He's actually nice. But he still doesn't talk to Jack if he can help it most of the time."

"I had noticed that. I thought perhaps he didn't want to frighten him."

"I think he's jealous," Sam said softly. The realisation only now hitting him.

Cas raised an eyebrow, "jealous?"

"Of you and Jack, how close you got so quickly."

"I don't-"

"You and Dean were really close, best friends. You two used to be the ones going off on your own, having your little talks." He smiled, almost sadly, he felt for his brother, he did, but Jack deserved this too. "Then, you died. And Jack was something he could _fight_ , you know? He was something he could be against. The big bad we'd all expected him to be? That was what Dean clung onto, because if he was _right_ then it would make things easier. Good and Evil. So we brought Jack in and Dean resented it, resented that Jack isn't evil, resented what that meant, that he was just a kid. And he was grieving and angry and…" he stopped.

"And?" Cas prompted, his expression unfathomable.

Sam was almost surprised to find his eyes filling up. It felt _good_ , to talk to someone who didn't just shut him down, to talk to someone about this who cared about Dean as much as he did.

"It was bad, Cas," he said, his throat tight. "It was _really_ bad." Then Sam cleared his throat and blinked hard and got back to the topic at hand. "Anyway," he said, "Then, you came back, and Dean, when he heard your voice on the phone, he must've…" Sam remembered the expression on his brother's face, the confusion, the fear and the tiniest spark of hope, "he must've had a picture in his head of how this would all go and reality just didn't sync up with that. I mean, have you two talked _at all_ outside of mealtimes? Have you talked alone?"

Cas shifted guiltily, Sam backtracked.

"It's not your fault," he said quickly, "you're right that Jack needs you. But you're just getting to know Jack for the first time. Dean _lost_ you. And you come back and you just, traded him in for Jack? And you and Jack just got so close so fast, it's no wonder he's jealous."

he paused at the expression on Cas' face, and reached over the table to pat him briefly on the shoulder.

"I'm not saying that's how it _is_. But that's just how Dean thinks, you know that."

Castiel sighed deeply. "I do. I guess I thought that if I acted like I had never left, it might start to feel that way. For all of us."

"Instead, it kinda feels like you never really came back." Sam said, sympathetically. That wasn't true of him of course, he thought it was sweet how protective Cas has had become in such a short time. But the cloud of depression that had settled on Dean's shoulders had barely shifted since that first night at the telephone booth. Nothing had changed except he was hiding it better. "I'm sorry, I know it sounds really harsh, and it sounds like I think you're deliberately ignoring him which I know isn't the case. I just…" he paused and shook his head. "Dean took it hard."

"He always does." Cas said quietly. He looked sad. "He's been through so much."

Sam leaned forward, speaking intently, "No, Cas. This was different. Look, I - I've seen Dean grieve before. I know his process by now. He takes it hard, he blames himself, he takes on layer after layer of guilt and he drinks until he passes out. He gets reckless, he wants to Hunt constantly and it builds and it builds until he explodes with everything he's feeling and he'll break down and punch a wall and scream and rage and trash his room. And then, he starts to heal, and he'll find something new to focus on and he gets better." Sam met Cas' eyes, "this wasn't like that."

"Dean is a lot more fragile than he expects himself to be." Cas said slowly. "Perhaps, losing two people at once sent him into a… different process."

"When Dad died, he destroyed his _car_ with a tyre iron and then built it back up from scratch. When _I_ died he went to the nearest crossroads and sold his soul for me. When Bobby died, and Charlie? He went on a rampage against Dick and the Steins. When Dean loses someone, he lashes out, he finds something to _do_. But losing Mom, losing _you_. He just… checked out. Like he didn't even care about trying to fix anything. Like he was just done. He told me he didn't believe in anything anymore."

The shadows on Cas' face darkened at these words.

"I've watched my brother accept going to Hell. I watched him _remember_ when he got back. I've watched him fight the Mark of Cain and I watched him rage as a demon. So understand me when I tell you, that I have _never_ been as worried about him as I have been since you died."

"What happened?" There was fear in Cas' voice, he asked the question tentatively, as though he really wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"I didn't know what to do." Sam said, his own voice breaking. His eyes over-spilled and he wiped at the tears impatiently. "He stayed in his room, just drinking and staring at the wall. He barely came out, barely did anything but listen to music and drink. He avoided Jack like the plague and only spoke to me if I talked first. I tried fighting him on it, tried to force him to open up, like I always do. I disagreed with him and I told him off and I tried talking to him but nothing worked and I thought, maybe he doesn't need contradiction right now, maybe he needs something else. So I… I brought him beer and I found us a case and left Jack behind and I read reviews for a strip club and I let him be Agent Page and he was snoring on the floor with a bra around his neck but I'm not sure he even left the hotel for that long. I mean, I could have sworn I heard the car come back before midnight. I just tried so hard to cheer him up, you know? Even a little. But the crap he pulled on that case? I thought I'd lost him. For good."

"Tell me."

"It was a salt and burn kinda case, all we had to do was find the bodies. And sure, the ghosts were pissed but their bodies had to be in the house and we had iron and salt and we could have searched the place and we would have found them, but Dean, he said we had no time, that there was a better way and he… Cas, he _killed himself_."

Cas' entire body stiffened, his hands balled into fists on the table and his jaw clenched. Something flashed in the depths of his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he pulled out a box with two syringes in it, told me to give him three minutes and plunged one into his heart." Sam looked up, past the angel, remembering the determination on Dean's face, the eager way he reached for death as he lay there, convulsing before finally falling still. "This wasn't an end of the world kind of case. We had two kids to find but we'd already taken care of the ghost of the doctor, so they weren't exactly in any more danger if they were still alive. The other ghosts were coming for us so it wouldn't have made a difference, we could have just searched the house."

Cas' knuckles were white, his face drained of colour, except for the shadows in those eyes.

"In the end, the second syringe didn't even _work_. I was calling for him and trying to get him to wake up and to _breathe_ but he just kept laying there."

Sam took a deep breath, he was shaking, he realised. When had he started shaking?

"Then he just… woke up. The ghosts were gone, Dean told me that the kids were already dead, that Billie had taken care of the ghosts for him. But there was something about the way he acted. I think… I think he was _disappointed_. Like he hadn't wanted to come back."

There was silence then while Sam collected himself. Cas appeared to be doing the same, his brow creased, his eyes haunted.

"He's always been self-destructive," Sam continued, "and reckless, and he always does stupid things and doesn't think about the consequences. He's cut himself open to be bait for vampires, he's thrown himself in the way of blades and bullets. He's never backed down when things got dangerous, but it was _always_ to protect people. To keep someone else safe. Even if he failed, or overreacted or went on a revenge-fuelled killing spree, he was _protecting_. But that? Who was he protecting then? He left me alone with his body in a house full of angry ghosts. If he'd found the kids alive, he couldn't have helped them like he could if he wasn't in the Veil. In that moment, he wasn't protecting anyone, Cas. He was finding an excuse to die!"

Sam buried his face in his hands, trembling. After a few moments, he felt a hand pat him gently on the shoulder.

"I'll talk to him," Cas promised, his own voice thick, "though I have no idea what I can say that can possibly make it better."

"Well if it helps," Sam said, managing a watery smile, "I don't think you can make it any worse."

 **So I'm unsure whether or not to leave this as a one shot or to write a second chapter. The main purpose of this fic was the Sam and Cas conversation because it's not like Dean would tell him the shit he pulled and I really wanted to see Cas' reaction to it.**

 **I also wanted the awkwardness that there's bound to be now that Jack's part of the unit seeing as there isn't an established dynamic there, it's just gonna be kind of a mess.**

 **What do you think? Should I leave it here? I'll leave it as incomplete for now because I may end up writing another chapter anyway. But feel free to let me know if you'd rather I marked it as complete.**

 **What did you guys think of that episode huh? Did you love it as much as I did?**

 **Love Tibbins xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, I'm back! So the response to this fic has been so amazing in such a short time that I just had to write a second chapter (not that you really would have stopped me anyway, I've been writing like crazy lately!)**

 **I want to thank absolutely everyone who has reviewed this fic because I really cannot express how much it means to me.**

 **Enjoy ^_^**

The next morning, Castiel entered the kitchen and perched on his usual seat. Dean was already prodding at a pan sizzling with bacon, humming Led Zeppelin. Castiel recognised the tune from the mixtape Dean had given him. He smiled at the Hunter, who spun and saluted him with the spatula.

"Mornin' Cas, seeing as you're the first one here, you get to decide how the eggs are done."

"That doesn't really seem fair, seeing as I no longer eat," Cas replied, leaning forward on the counter top, chin resting on his hands,

"Not the point," Dean said sternly, "house rules."

"Technically, you were here first," Cas reasoned, "so you should decide."

Dean waved the spatula at him and Cas couldn't help but smile wider. He had to admit, there was something calming about watching Dean cook. The easy way he slid between the oven and the fridge, pulling out ingredients and arranging them on the side. He was methodical about it, but there was always leniency. If Sam came in declaring that he wanted pancakes, Dean would be quick to adapt, though he might hit Sam with the spatula. Dean even _looked_ more relaxed. The tension he usually carried in his shoulders was down to a minimum, he wore a pair of slacks and a loose fitting grey t-shirt, without the usual plaid. He looked comfortable, and there was a softness to his brow that Castiel rarely saw.

Dean cracked eggs into a smaller pan and began the process of scrambling, even adding a sprinkle of sugar into the mixture which Castiel wasn't sure he'd ever tried. Although it was far more convenient not to need food, and he certainly didn't miss needing to use the bathroom, he wished he could taste food properly again. If only to see what sweet scrambled eggs tasted like. Dean didn't talk and Cas didn't think that now would be the time to initiate an important conversation, what with Sam and Jack bound to interrupt. But there was an easy smile tugging at the Hunter's lips. As though he too was just enjoying the company. Warmth blossomed in Cas' chest, though it was tinged with ice at its tips as he remembered what Sam had said. It was difficult to believe that this placid man who looked so at home was the same man that Sam had described. Looking deeper, Castiel searched out Dean's soul, the truest part of him that could hide nothing. He didn't look through Dean's mind, that would have been rude, but his soul told him just as much. Dean's soul hadn't been whole for as long as Cas had known him, his time in Hell had changed him forever, as had all the consequences. There were visible cracks, deep gouges and the thing was pockmarked with spots of corruption. But for all of that, his soul was all the more beautiful. It glowed with a fierce righteousness, the flaws in its surface only faceted the colours into a maelstrom of light. That was the soul that Cas remembered, that was the soul that he searched for.

What he found still glowed, but it was no longer as bright. It flickered like a candle flame and many of the cracks had grown wider, new scars forming. Cas recoiled from the thing, pain lancing through his own chest. How could so much damage have been done in only a few weeks?

"Cas, you okay, buddy?"

Dean was there in front on him, a hand reaching for his arm across the counter. Castiel shook himself but couldn't dispel the image of that soul. That soul that was the truest reflection of the man leaning towards him, concern plastered on his face. This man, who had been through so much and just kept going, this man, who had seen all of the horrors that the world and beyond had to offer and always kept fighting to make things better, to make things right. This man, who was supposed to be under his protection. Castiel's insides felt like they were crumbling to dust. But Dean was worried about him, _Dean_ was worried about _him_.

"You were so beautiful." Castiel whispered, meeting those eyes. "You shouldn't pretend."

"Pretend what?" Jack asked, entering with Sam close behind him. Although Jack was still tentative around Dean, he had slowly gained confidence in asking him questions, especially if Castiel was around.

"Nothin'" Dean said, turning back to the eggs which were beginning to burn. He stirred vigorously to try and reduce the amount stuck to the sides before portioning them and the bacon out between the three of them. "Cas just thinks I'm pretty."

Sam snorted loudly, expressing more humour than Castiel thought that the situation warranted.

"I'll bet," he muttered, earning a glare from Dean.

Jack tilted his head. "You do have a very symmetrical face," he said. Dean grunted and passed Jack his food. Sam smirked and reached for his own plate, digging in to the eggs with his fork. In between bites he caught Cas' eyes, who shook his head slightly. Sam went back to his breakfast with a small frown.

Dean sat down with his own plate. Jack asked Castiel what they were going to work on today. He was starting to understand how closely his powers were linked to his emotions, especially anger. This was something that worried Castiel. He didn't think it a particularly healthy way for the boy to express himself. Especially because of the damage he could cause if he lost control. Castiel was hoping he could channel his power into a more specific feeling, like protectiveness or even try and separate the two completely. He wanted Jack to be able to choose when to use his abilities and how, without trying to repress his anger. Lately, they had been working on using Jack's more positive emotions to accomplish small tasks, continuing on from Sam's training of moving pencils. Although Jack became quickly frustrated when he seemingly couldn't do something so simple, Castiel explained to him that it wasn't because of his lack of power, but his lack of experience. He could could make people float and move bullets in the heat of the moment, but until his powers became reliable, he couldn't trust them to always be there.

"Actually Jack, I thought that Sam could work with you today." Cas said, glancing at the younger Winchester. "He understands the benefits of focus as well as I." Jack's face fell slightly but he nodded. Sam eagerly took over.

"Yeah, I thought maybe we could actually go out for a bit, you know, do some people watching? Sometimes, seeing all the normality that you're protecting can do a lot to motivate you, right, Dean?"

"Uh-huh," Dean said, shovelling bacon into his mouth, "sure,". Sam's mouth pressed into a thin line as he and Jack finished breakfast. Sam ushering Jack out to get his jacket and nodding to Cas with an encouraging smile before he rounded the corner.

"What was all that about?" Dean asked, waving his fork in the direction his brother had gone, "you got something else to do today?"

"Nothing specific," Castiel said, not quite meeting his eyes. He really didn't want to catch a glimpse of that soul again, "but I had hoped that we could, uh, hang out."

Dean raised an eyebrow, but his lips tugged upwards,

"Really?" The tone was sarcastic but Castiel could sense something deeper, it was a genuine question.

"Yes. We haven't really talked very much since I came back and I feel that I've been neglecting our friendship. I'm sorry."

Dean waved his hand dismissively, taking away the three used plates and placing them in the sink.

"Bah, you don't owe me anything, Cas. You're doing important stuff with the kid, I don't need coddling."

Dean squirted washing up liquid into the sink before picking up a sponge and beginning to wipe down the dishes.

"What I'm attempting with Jack is important, yes." He said, carefully choosing his words, "but so are you. And hanging out isn't just for your benefit. I've missed you."

Dean grunted at that. Castiel stood to manoeuvre around the counter so he was stood next to Dean while he scrubbed at the pan, still coated with a thin layer of egg, with a wire brush.

"What was up with you before?" Dean asked quietly, "you looked like you'd seen a ghost. Except ghosts don't scare you like that," he scraped all of the remaining soggy, soapy egg mess into the bin and proceeded to rinse out the pan. "Was it… did you remember the Empty? I know that can't have been fun, man."

"No, it wasn't that." Cas said, how did you express to someone that you had looked into their soul and been horrified by what you saw? "It wasn't so bad there, really, and it's not like I was even supposed to wake up…" He trailed off, Dean had picked up the brush again and was scrubbing at the pan a little harder than was necessary. "But when I was awake, I knew that I needed to get out. To come back, to you and Sam."

Castiel picked up a towel and gently took the pan from Dean, patting it dry and placing it back in the cupboard.

They continued like this for a few moments, washing and drying in silence. Though it wasn't exactly a comfortable silence. There was too much that needed to be said.

When the last plate had been put away, Dean followed Castiel to one of the recreation rooms, where Dean dropped onto the sofa and Castiel took the armchair closest to him.

"I'm not pretending, you know," Dean said, shifting as he said the words, staring straight ahead. "What you said before. I'm not."

"Dean, please. Don't insult me." Cas bristled at the blatant lie, "what happened before… I looked into your soul and what I _saw_ ," he closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to rid himself of the comparison between that broken shell and the supernova, "what I saw was fractured."

"What? You looked at my _soul_? What the hell, Cas? Isn't that meant to be private or something?" Dean was on his feet, his hands in fists, a flush creeping up his neck. Castiel followed suit.

"I wouldn't have had to look if you were honest with me. If you didn't keep pulling away from everyone. Staying in the kitchen so you never have to talk to anyone on their own, or locking yourself away in your room with a crate of beer, did you think I just wouldn't notice that something was wrong?"

"Wrong? What's wrong exactly? I got you back, I've got Sam and we might have the ticket to getting Mom back too. What could possibly be so wrong with my soul, when I have everything that I prayed for?"

"That's exactly what I'm asking. You have your family, you have a way to reunite your family, why aren't you fighting for it? Why are you ignoring Jack if you see him in the hall? Why did you threaten to _kill_ him, when you know what he might be able to do?"

Dean's jaw clenched.

"Dammit Sam. Was that all he told you?"

"What do you think?" Castiel could feel his anger radiating from him in waves, "what did you _expect_ him to do? He lost his mother too, _he_ was grieving too, and he watched you die. He watched you leave him alone. That's not you. No matter what, you always do what's best for your brother. Suicide, Dean? Really? While Sam watched? Did you just expect him to keep quiet about that? Did you not think that would affect him?"

"That was for the case! It was temporary, I wasn't expecting to stay dead."

"Maybe not, but you were hoping for it."

Dean said noting, the darkness in his eyes speaking volumes, practically screaming at him.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Cas continued, his own voice wavering, he jabbed at Dean's chest with his finger, "tell me that you didn't want to die. That you just weren't thinking. Tell me that what you did was stupid, that you genuinely thought that there was no other way."

There was a pause. Too long a pause.

Cas jabbed his finger at Dean's chest again, ready to continue, to yell, tell Dean exactly what he thought of that little stunt, that he had been reckless and stupid and selfish and to above all ask him _why_ but Dean caught Castiel's finger gently and held on to it. Eyes closed, face scrunched in pain and Castiel forgot the words.

"Cas," Dean said. His eyes opened and green met blue, "you were _gone_. _Mom_ was gone. Even Crowley was gone. And we were left with Lucifer's kid and no plan, no 'next problem' to move toward, just the kid. And your body to burn." He swallowed hard, dropping Cas' finger. Castiel saw the bob of his Adam's apple. "Then, Missouri called us for help and I couldn't save her, and Sam was trying so hard to fix it but I wouldn't let it be fixed. I wouldn't let it be better. Because I couldn't do it. I couldn't hold on to anything, I couldn't face the possibility that Mom might not be dead, or that Jack might not be evil. I just stopped swinging. And Sean, that kid. He was relying on us to find him. But I went to a strip club and I was drinking myself blind while a scared little boy was getting his brains drilled out by a psychopathic ghost! I told him I was there to stop the monsters. But I couldn't even do that. So we had to find the bodies, and I had the syringes with me and I thought 'screw it, I'm done.' And there was a chance that I might be able to let go. Of everything. And I could stop dragging Sam down and I could stop seeing your face as you lay on that table and I could stop watching Mom pulled though the rift and I could stop trying to care about Jack and I could just _stop_. But hey, if it worked, there was also a chance I could save Sean, so, win-win. But he was already dead, and then Billie…" Dean looked down then, staring at his feet, "she was right about me, but she didn't care what I wanted. She just sent me back so it didn't even matter." The fist at his side was trembling and his eyes were shining with unshed tears. "So, yeah, I guess I checked out. I guess the going got tough and I couldn't hack it. And it was selfish. But I don't regret trying. I just don't."

Castiel's anger had evaporated by the time Dean stopped talking. Replaced by something more solid, leaden in his veins. It was painful, and intense and so sad. Castiel raised his hand to cup the Hunter's cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear.

"Perhaps you were entitled to a moment of selfishness," he said, thinking about the last time Dean had walked away to die. "I understand. I don't blame you for wanting an end."

Dean looked at him, and he looked so surprised, so _grateful_ at the words that Castiel wanted to cry himself.

"You don't?"

Cas shook his head.

"I know that my returning doesn't solve everything. I know that things are different now that we have Jack. I know that that's hard for you." He paused and slid his other hand up so that he held Dean's face between his palms, staring at this man who had taught him what it meant to live, what it meant to be human, what it meant to _feel_. "But you have never let me down and I owe you so much. I will help you get through this. Whatever you need. If I have to read your mind to find out exactly what that is, I will, do you understand?"

Dean nodded mutely, eyes not leaving his own. He looked so vulnerable and child-like and as strong a front as he put up, as much pain and torment as he could take before breaking, Dean was the most fragile of all of them, because he attacked himself from within.

"You did not fail that boy," Castiel continued, "there is no conceivable way you could have known he was targeted that night. You didn't fail Mary either, she made her decisions and she did what she thought was right. You certainly didn't fail me, you couldn't have pulled me back if you had tried, I was determined to kill Lucifer and I missed the shot." He smiled up at Dean, who was staring at him as though Cas knew all of the answers to questions he didn't know how to ask. "I told you once that you can't save everyone, though you try. But I never told you that sometimes, the only person that you can save is yourself, and that's okay."

"And what if I can't even do that?"

"Then you have me and Sam to help you. I'm here for you, Dean. Anything you need, anything."

They stared at each other for a few moment, then Dean looked away, ashamed.

"Don't look at me like that, Cas," he said, stepping away. Castiel let his arms fall and tilted his head in confusion.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm worth something."

"You _are_."

"But, my soul. You said it's broken. What use is a broken soul to anyone?"

"Dean, you've always had a broken soul, for as long as I've known you. And you have done so much good. It wasn't the damage that scared me, it was the lack of light, of hope. But I am willing to bet everything I own, that when you find that light again your soul will be the most beautiful of any in existence."

"You-" Dean said, awe in his face, "-you really believe that, don't you?"

Castiel smiled. He didn't need to nod, he didn't need to speak, Dean understood. He smiled too, slow and small, but full of emotion. Then it was gone, and he collapsed back onto the sofa.

"So you _do_ think I'm pretty?" Dean said with a pouty grin, looking up at the angel. Castiel laughed and sat next to him.

"You are very aesthetically pleasing."

"Cas, stop, you're gonna make me blush," Dean said, pushing his shoulder. Cas allowed himself to be pushed. Dean grabbed the remote for the small TV and turned it on. He flicked through the channels before picking one and settling himself down to watch. It was an old film that Castiel had never seen before, though Dean seemed to know it well. He kept explaining to Cas what was going on and even said the lines to himself in some of the more dramatic scenes. He kept glancing towards Cas before smiling and turning back to the movie. After twenty minutes or so, Dean leaned back into the cushions. Castiel didn't move, but suddenly their shoulders were touching, warmth radiating where their arms joined. Dean sighed contentedly, eyes fused to the screen.

"Welcome home, Cas," Dean said, turning his head to look at the angel. Castiel looked beyond Dean's eyes and saw that the dim glow of Dean's soul had brightened somewhat, and fractals of colour burst forth, refracting off the chipped and fractured surface. His breath caught.

"I was right." Castiel said, staring in wonder, "absolutely beautiful."

Then, Dean smiled and Castiel could not decide which sight he liked better.

 **So what do you think?**

 **I wanted the ending to be pretty fluffy, and put you all in a happy mood for next week's episode (because that promo just made my heart so warm and fuzzy), but I also wanted it to be in-keeping with the show so I didn't want to go overboard.**

 **(Originally, instead of watching tv, they had a pillowfight but I thought that was a bit much)**

 **Also; I always put sugar in my scrambled eggs. It's delicious dammit!**

 **All feedback is hugely appreciated**

 **I seriously love you all**

 **Love Tibbins xx**


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